She turns from me, her baby muzzle seeking Mums protection,
I watch in joy, murmering my fervent admiration.
Her mother helps her stand amidst the slippery muck,
Lowing softly as her calf, at last, begins to suck.I smile and nod, reality's beat my imagination!
I smile and nod, reality's beat my imagination!

In time Herd Leader, champion, worthy of her station,
Her great silky udder swells, her milk could feed a nation!
The mighty bull is calling, bet he cant believe his luck.
She turns from me.

She's old now, I cannot delay the final destination,
For one long moment she stares in final accusation.
This grand matriarch, we all admire her pluck,
But she's the last, the rest are on the truck.
Finally her proud head droops in awful resignation.....
She turns from me.

Angela Alexander 25/03/1997